


An unintended kiss

by Perelynn



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-12-31 17:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21149786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perelynn/pseuds/Perelynn
Summary: Abbie couldn’t sleep after the Catacombs.*Warning: Occasional spoilers for Season 3, including the finale*





	1. Chapter 1

Abbie couldn’t sleep after the Catacombs.

She tried. She really tried. Multiple times, she would retreat to her bedroom, change into her pajamas, turn off the lights and climb into the bed. She would lie there, staring into darkness. And then, one of two things would happen. Either she would get bored, get up and start doing things around the house. Or she would fall asleep, which meant tossing, turning, muttering, and eventually waking up with a shriek. 

Ichabod didn’t know which was worse.

One night, he heard her shout “Crane!” so desperately he rushed to her side in his nightshirt. She was sitting on her bed, breathing heavily. The moment he was near, she grabbed his hand. He sat down, stroking her fingers. 

“Are you real?” Abbie asked. “Please be real.”  
“I am indeed,” he assured her. “I am at your side, Lieutenant, and I always will be.”

She fell back on the pillows, still clutching at his hand. Her eyes closed. Ichabod lost himself studying her face in the dim light coming from the street. Finally, her jaw relaxed, her brow smoothed out, her breathing evened. But when he tried to untangle his fingers from hers, she tensed again, her eyelashes fluttering. Ichabod hastily enveloped her hand in both of his. Minutes went by before she relaxed again. 

There was no way he was returning to his bedroom now. Carefully holding the Lieutenant’s hand, Ichabod gingerly lowered himself next to her.

After that night, they started sleeping in one bed, holding hands. It often was restless sleep. Abbie would wake him up so frequently it was resembling torture more than anything else. Soon, Ichabod started having nightmares of his own. He dreamt that he never came back from the darkness. They woke up countless times, gasping, grasping for each other. But at least, Abbie slept, instead of wandering aimlessly around the house.

One night, he stepped out to the washroom. When he came back, Abbie was sitting on the bed, her eyes wide, her hands rolled into fists. She looked more vulnerable than he ever saw her. Ichabod sat next to her and took her clenched hand, undoing it finger by finger.

“Will it ever end?” she asked.  
“It will,” he assured her. “You will get back to normal. You’re the strongest person I know.”

She turned to look at him. Ichabod couldn’t help himself. His hand cupped her cheek. His breath stuck in his throat. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead. At the same time, Abbie threw her arms around his neck for a hug. There was a moment of confusion. Their lips met without either of them intending that.

For years, all Ichabod allowed himself was to look. The Lieutenant was both gorgeous and courageous, a treat for the eyes as well as the spirit. He used every opportunity for telling her how grateful he is to have her by his side. But every time his imagination tried to run wild, he would force himself to stop. It was not proper to think about his fellow Witness in this way. It was unacceptable while Ichabod was still married. It felt like a disgrace even after he lost his wife. The Lieutenant deserved to be treated with respect. It felt undignified to make her an object of his fantasies. 

Until she pressed her lips to his and moaned into his mouth. 

The images he suppressed for so long flooded his mind, making it impervious to reason. All the times when he wanted to trace her cheekbones with kisses, when he dreamt of nuzzling at her full breasts, when he craved to inhale deeply and hold on to her smell came back to him, turning from half-formed urges into a desperate need. He pulled Abbie closer, his mind empty, his entire being driven by a single instinct.

He came to his senses only when she started taking off his shirt. Before he could protest, she completed the task and was now unbuttoning her pajamas. He stopped her, taking her hands into his gently, but firmly. 

“Lieutenant,” he whispered hoarsely, “are you sure you want this?”  
“I don’t know if I want this,” Abbie breathed out. “I know that I need this. I need you, Crane, all of you that I can lay my hands on”.

She freed her wrists from his gentle grasp and went on kissing him. 

“Lieutenant,” he managed, “as much as I ache to continue this embrace, I need to tell you something. I know that, in your era, people cross into the deeper level of intimacy without thinking much of it. It’s different for me, however. If we proceed, our relationship will irrevocably change. My love for you will no longer be... contained.”

Abbie looked at him as if she didn’t understand his words.

“Is this a no, Crane?” she whispered, softly and sadly. “Are you rejecting me?”  
“Never,” he said passionately, leaning towards her, consequences be damned.

This time it was him who went for the kiss, and Abbie was the one to stop it.

“Wait,” she said. “You love me, Crane?”

Nice of her to finally catch up, he thought. 

“Frankly, the word “love” doesn’t do it justice,” he replied. “You’re the best thing that happened to me in all my life. Every moment I feel lucky to have met you. You are the reason I keep going. You are my sunshine, my hope, my guiding star…”

His words were punctuated with pauses as he planted fervent kisses on her bare shoulders. Abbie stopped him by placing a bandaged finger to his mouth.

“That’s odd,” she said, frowning.  
“What?” He asked into her finger.  
“I feel... safe. Relaxed. Warm. At peace.”  
“That’s… good?” he ventured.  
“More than good,” she turned slightly away without letting go of him. “I haven’t felt like this in a long, long time.” 

Her full lips formed a soft “o”. Ichabod did his best to stop himself from tasting them again. He knew the expression on her face. The Lieutenant was chasing an inspiration, and he didn’t want to break her focus.

“No,” Abbie corrected herself, still deep in her thoughts. “I always felt like this with you. Pretty much from day one. But I was afraid to admit it. It felt like home, and I was afraid to lose it.”

He felt himself swallowing. The implications of her words were almost blinding.

“That’s why I always kept my distance,” Abbie said. “Getting close would mean too much hope. Too much pain if we ever fall apart. I couldn’t afford that.” She smiled. “It’s not that I was thinking in these words. It was more like a feeling. A coping mechanism.”

It was his turn to frown.

“What does “coping” have to do with it?” he asked. “A cop is a policeman, right?”

She smiled again.

“Nevermind,” she said. “The point is, I was too afraid of getting hurt to make a move on you.”  
“I would never hurt you, Lieutenant,” he said, wounded.  
“I know that.”  
“If being with me is what you want, I can only thank the Heavens,” he insisted. “If I can help restore your sense of home, of safety, of belonging, that’s more than I could ever ask for. I’m yours, Abbie. Wherever you go, I go.”  
“It’s almost scary,” she told him, “how freakishly happy it makes me feel.” Her smile blossomed. “Kiss me again.”

He was so eager to oblige he almost didn’t register the words that she whispered as he lowered her down on the bed.

“Help me fight the darkness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had two more chapters in mind (one where they have a final stand with Pandora and one in the AU where Abbie lives past season 3) but I'm not sure if this fandom is alive anymore. I'm publishing this to see if interested readers are still around.  
R&R if you liked it, please!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t plan for this chapter, but I felt I had to give Ichabbie at least some of the morning after before moving off to their adventure with Pandora.

Abbie was sleeping.

Ichabod watched her, torn between elation and uncertainty. His memories of the previous night made him dizzy with happiness. His attempts to look into the future made his head spin in much less pleasant way. What if she wakes up and tells him the last night was a mistake? What if she hates him for overstepping his boundaries at her moment of weakness? How are they to continue their duty as Witnesses?

Trying to calm down his mind that was switching erratically from bliss to bleakness and back, Ichabod got out of bed, got dressed, tried to do some chores. But he always gravitated back towards the bed where Abbie slept, unaware of his tormented thoughts.

Her phone rang. Ichabod grabbed it hastily, afraid that the loud sound would wake her up. He wanted to drop the call, but saw “Danny” on the screen. He picked up.

“Good morrow, Officer Reynolds.”  
“Crane?” came Daniel’s voice. “Where is Abbie?”  
“Lieutenant Mills is sleeping,” Ichabod told him. “She hasn’t got a good quality sleep for a while and I’m not going to disturb her slumber for any mission you may have in mind.”

Reynolds fell silent for a moment.

“Fine,” he said presently. “Tell her she can have a day off.”  
“Thank you, I will.”

Ichabod left the phone on the table in the living room and returned to Abbie’s bedroom. He was met with an eyebrow. Abbie was sitting on the bed. Her face was still puffy from sleep, her frame still wrapped in a blanket, but she was unmistakably awake. 

“Don’t you ever dare to answer my calls without my permission,” she said.  
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” he said. “You needed rest. For your information, Officer Reynolds agrees with me. He said you don’t have to come to work today.”

While saying all this, Ichabod felt more than slightly surreal. It was a conversation so normal they could have had it on any given day. But it wasn’t a normal day! Or was it? Was Abbie putting so little weight on what happened between them?

“Fine,” Abbie said. “I’ll let it slide. Just because it’s such an awesome morning.”

With that, the Lieutenant climbed out of the bed and went towards him. 

Ichabod felt like he was hit on the head with a baseball bat. Several times.

First of all, Abbie was naked. She was behaving like it was nothing out of the ordinary. As if seeing her shapely figure in all its splendor wasn’t enough to render him speechless, let alone aroused. Ichabod wasn’t used to naked ladies throwing themselves at him. Even with Katrina, the moments of intimacy happened in a dimly lit bedroom. He knew his wife’s body by touch better than by look. Now, Abbie was in front of him without wearing a single scrap of fabric to cover her delicious curves, and it was overwhelming. 

Secondly, she went to kiss him. After all his worries this morning, after all the years of keeping him at arm’s length, she now just closed up on him matter-of-factly and bestowed a mind-blowingly juicy kiss on his mouth. She slid into his embrace as easily and naturally as if she belonged there. And, of course, she did. 

“Good morning, Crane,” she said, smiling at him.

He withdrew slightly, raising his right hand and holding up his index finger. His other hand remained firmly on her waist, because not feeling her skin under his fingertips was a deprivation he hoped to never be subjected to again. 

“Before we proceed,” he said. “I have two pressing questions.”  
“Yes?" Abbie asked curiously.  
“First, can you call me Ichabod? I think what happened last night merits moving to the first name basis.”

She cocked her head to one side. 

“I don’t know,” she said. “It just sounds weird.”  
“It’s my name, Abbie.”  
“Fine. Let me try something.”

She stood on tiptoes and brushed a wayward strand of hair from his temple.

“Ichabod,” she whispered into his ear.

The world disappeared. All that remained was the warmth of her breath on his ear, the fleeting touch of her lips, the twinkle in her dark eyes as she smiled at him. Together, it resulted in a hot wave of desire which Ichabod habitually tried to suppress and failed spectacularly. His arms enveloped Abbie, pulling her against him with such zeal he lifted her off the floor. His lips claimed hers. Her hands found their way into his hair. Abbie and Ichabod half-stumbled, half-fell into the bed and didn’t use their mouths for any coherent conversation for quite some time.

***

“Tamper expectations, please,” Abbie said. 

They were in the kitchen. Ichabod was fixing a quick breakfast. Abbie, unable to wait, was nibbling at some cold cuts she found in the fridge. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.  
“I want to put some boundaries on that new development we had. Say, we only exercise it within this house.”  
“You want to keep our new relationship secret?”  
“I don’t think we can. I work in the freaking FBI. There are nosy brats all around me, and I haven’t even counted Jenny yet. No, what I want is for us to stay professional. When we are on the case, I don’t want any distractions.”

She waved her hand, looking for a napkin to wipe her fingers, greasy from the salami she was consuming. Ichabod had to stifle the impulse to catch her wrist and lick her fingers clean. She caught his lingering gaze. 

“Yes,” she nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t get me wrong. This,” Abbie gestured at their half-naked bodies, “is awesome. But we have a duty that is above mundane pleasures.”  
“I agree,” Ichabod said solemnly. “First of all, we are Witnesses.”

The omelette was almost ready. The smell was already divine, even if he said so himself.

“What was the second question?” Abbie asked.

He frowned.

“I beg your pardon?”  
“When I woke up, you said you had two questions. The first was about me calling you by your name. The second I am yet to hear.”  
“Ah,” he said. “Right. What did you mean, “help you fight the darkness”?

Abbie winced. Her lovely face, relaxed and playful just a moment ago, was now grim. She looked like the Abbie she was yesterday, tense, tight-lipped and exhausted.

Ichabod turned off the burner, covered the pan with a lid and took off the kitchen mitts. Then, he turned to look at her.

She averted her eyes.

“Lieutenant?” he pressed.  
“I cannot tell you,” she said. “But I can show you.”

She took him to the shed behind the house and took off a sheet covering something on the wall. That was how Ichabod first found out about the Emblem of Thura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I don’t see the point in repeating their conversation about the Emblem. I’m quite happy with how it was handled in the canon. Next comes the juicy stuff. The confrontation with the Hidden One and Pandora which Abbie (in my universe) is somehow supposed to survive.
> 
> R&R please! Your wonderful reviews keep me going.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Pandora is the cause of our trouble.” Ichabod said. “She is the solution.”

“I saw the box take you,” he said breathlessly.  
“It did,” Abbie nodded. “Used my soul. But now the box is destroyed. You saw to that. I’m free.”  
“Then, why are you here?” he asked. “What is this place?”  
“We’re in the waiting room between life and death,” she informed him pleasantly. “An old friend said I couldn’t go into the light. So, I’m moving on.”  
“I don’t understand.”  
“Don’t try. It’s more like what you feel. My whole life has fallen into place. I’m whole, Crane. Finally. I can move forward now.”  
“No, no, no, Lieutenant. We’re together, remember? We fight together, we journey together, and we die together.”

Abbie shook her head. 

“I’ve taken you as far as I could. My job is done.” 

Something finally clicked. Ichabod stopped feeling lost and started feeling enraged. 

“With all due respect Lieutenant,” he said loudly, “this is nonsense.”  
“Excuse me?” Abbie said.  
“If you want to leave, I have no right to hold you back,” he said. “But all this talk about you being done is poppycock. Your life is not a job, Abbie. You are not a function. You said you’re whole now. Well, as much as I am happy to hear that, it would be damn unfair if you didn’t get to live it.”  
“Crane…”

He interrupted her. He was so furious that even his fear to lose her took the back seat. 

“You deserve the life that was taken from you when you were twelve,” he told her. “To enjoy the peace of mind, when you’re not tormented, doubtful, lost. To choose your path, to forge your destiny, to make your own purpose. You are not a tool, Abbie. You’re your own person with your own free will. You finally found the freedom you longed for. It would be a great injustice for you not to get a chance to exercise it.”

Abbie’s face, serene at the beginning of his speech, was now not so peaceful. There were tears in her eyes, and her lips quivered slightly.

“Damn it, Crane!” she said. “You’re making it complicated. I made peace with Corbin. With Joe. With my father. I said my good-byes. I was ready to move on. Then you appear and go at me full attack with that eloquence of yours!”  
“You know as well as I do, Lieutenant,” he countered, “nothing I say would sway you if you did not, deep down, feel the truth of my words.”

She turned away, but he still saw it. The small, almost imperceptible nod. 

“There is more to it than just deciding to come back,” Abbie sighed. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Crane?”  
“What?” he asked eagerly. “Did you eat or drink something here? I’m sure it doesn’t pose an insurmountable barrier. Our bond is strong enough to overcome any metaphysical technicality of this sort.”  
“I don’t have a body, Crane,’ she reminded him. “It was consumed by the Box to release my soul.”

Ichabod gave her a small smile. 

“What?” Abbie asked. “You think you can give me my body back? Are you going to conjure it out of thin air? Did you turn into a god while I wasn’t looking?”  
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “But someone else did.”

***

“Do you feel this, Witness?” Pandora said. “The pain, the loss, the fear?”

He did. His whole being was overwhelmed by a single thought. He lost her. He lost Abbie. 

And then an idea came to him, in all its shining clarity. 

There is always another way.

“Yes!” he exclaimed dramatically. “I see it now, Pandora! You are a true divine being. You have a much bigger claim on the title than many beings who aspired to it! Please let me worship you, O Mighty, and to be your servant!”  
“Crane!” came Jenny’s voice from behind him. “What the hell are you doing?”  
“The only sensible thing, unlike the rest of you,” Pandora told her. “Go on, Witness.”  
“I cannot express how much I admire and adore you!” Ichabod continued hastily. “Would you be so gracious as to take pity on the mere mortal? You were right. I feel lost without my partner. Please, return her to me. I beg you. Restore Abigail Mills to this world.”

Pandora stood with her head high, smiling at his words.

“I like you, Witness,” she said. “And I like it that you finally saw reason. Behold my kindness and benevolence.”

She moved her hands.

A naked human body appeared at her feet. It was laying on the ground face down, but Ichabod recognized it instantly. He launched forward, taking off his coat. He turned Abbie on her back, covering her with the coat. Her eyes were closed. Ichabod took her hand. 

She didn’t have a pulse.

“Abbie!” he whispered desperately, “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. Just as Ichabod was speaking frantically, calling her back, the body disappeared.

He looked up at Pandora, who was still smiling.

“What have you done?” he asked hoarsely.  
“What you have asked of me,” she answered.  
“I asked for alive Abbie, not for a corpse!”  
“Haven’t you listened to me, Witness?” Pandora said tersely. “I’ve explained it already! I cannot give you back her soul. It’s needed to contain the Hidden One within the box. Abigail Mills is dead. Dead and gone.”

Ichabod heard himself gasp.

“But I have given you back her body,” Pandora was saying. “Now you can give her a proper ceremony, as per your customs. I even put it in the Catacomb for you, for in this world bodies tend to decay. You cannot call me unreasonable.”

Ichabod felt rage rising in his chest. He started getting up to his feet, to launch at the being who dared mocking the most precious thing in his life… and then he saw something.

The Headless Horseman was no longer struggling with the Box. While Pandora’s attention was on Ichabod, her nemesis freed himself from the magical pull and was now walking to reclaim his axe from the tree it was stuck in. Crane needed to keep Pandora occupied, to give him time. 

“O Powerful Goddess!” Jenny chimed in suddenly. 

The younger Miss Mills did undoubtedly notice the maneuvers of the Horseman and came to the same conclusion as Ichabod.

“How true are your words!” Jenny declared, looking at Pandora with awe. She was overdoing it a bit, but the goddess didn’t seem to mind. “How evident is your benevolence! Can I ask you for the same favour for myself? My lover, Joe Corbin, died. Turned into Wendigo by your vile husband. Can I ask you to bring him back? His soul is not tied up in your Box. It should be easy for you to restore him!”

Pandora pouted.

“I do not repeat favours,” she announced. “It gets boring very fast. Now, if you are all done, I would like you to kneel and pledge your allegiance to me proper…” 

She didn’t get a chance to say anything else. The Headless Horseman was behind her. He didn’t ask for anything. He simply cut off her head.

“The Box!” Jenny screamed. “It’s going to explode!”

***

“Are you telling me,” Abbie said, “there is a brand-new body waiting for me in Catacombs, courtesy of now-deceased Pandora?”  
“The chances are favorable, Lieutenant.”

Abbie shook her head. 

“I don’t feel it. If my body were back, I would feel the connection. I don’t.”  
“Let me work on it,” Ichabod pleaded. “Let me check the Catacombs for the body. Let me restore the connection if it’s broken. Just... don’t leave. Give me time. Please.”

Abbie smiled.

“Fine. I owe you this much. We’re a team, after all.”

***  
They found the body exactly where he expected to - in the antechamber of the Catacombs, where Abbie spent so many hours and days playing real chess with an imaginary Crane.

The body was still covered with his coat. It still had no pulse, no other vital signs. Still, it was a start. Ichabod scooped the body into his arms. It was heavy. 

“What do we do, Miss Jenny?” he asked.  
“I’d say we take her outside and defibrillate her,” Jenny said.  
“De-what?”  
“Apply electric shock to make her heart beat again.”

Ichabod blinked.

“I won’t even pretend I understand what you are talking about. But I’m all for it.”

He started raising on his feet, but Jenny stopped him.

“Wait. We need special equipment for this, and we need it the moment we bring her back. Do you recall where exactly is the exit to our world?”  
“In the Delaware river,” Ichabod replied. “Close to the location where Abbie and I started our boat ride.”  
“Ok,” Jenny said. “Let me go first. I’ll get us an ambulance. Wait here for exactly one hour. It will give me ten hours in our world. More than enough to commandeer a medical vehicle.” 

He nodded. 

“Let’s do it!”

***

Getting out of the river at night, with Abbie’s precious body weighing him down, was not an easy task. Luckily, Miss Jenny was waiting for him, ready to assist. Together, they got the body into the van, where Jenny grabbed two strange devices that looked like irons and promptly applied them to Abbie’s naked chest.

The body jerked. River water flowed out of its mouth. Jenny looked at it skeptically and went for another try.

“Normally, doctors diagnose the cardiac rhythm and then determine the voltage and timing,” she said. “I made my best guess.”  
“And you succeeded”, Ichabod yelled, pointing at Abbie’s chest.

It was moving. 

Jenny took Abbie’s wrist.

“There is a pulse.”

Ichabod kneeled, taking Abbie’s face into his palms.

“Wake up, Lieutenant.”

Nothing happened. The body was breathing, but the eyes remained closed.

“Her soul needs a beacon,” Jenny said. “To find this body and claim it as hers.”  
“The cabinet!” Ichabod exclaimed even as Jenny said the same thing. “Quick! Let’s take her to the Archives!”

***

They placed Abbie into the cabinet and said the magical formula. 

There was no effect.

Jenny slapped herself on the forehead and brought in three totems: Abbie’s gun, the FBI pass, the journal with her drawing of the Emblem of Thura. 

Nothing happened.

“What did we miss?” Crane whispered, dizzy from desperation and hope.  
“Maybe we need something else,” Jenny mused. “Maybe these items are from her past life. But she is not called to her past. As far as I understand, you promised her the future. Future she doesn’t yet have.”

Ichabod jerked upright as the inspiration hit him.

“Yes she does,” he said. “She has me. That’s what she did when she called me back from the void. She used herself as a totem. Now it’s my turn.”

He leaned to Abbie’s limp form and kissed her fully on the lips. 

It was strange bordering on disturbing. Her mouth was lax under his, not at all the sensation he grew to expect from these full, supple lips. It felt like kissing a corpse, and it filled his heart with dread...

Behind his back, the candle lit up. Abbie opened her eyes.

“Seriously, Crane?” she demanded. “You couldn’t wait until I wake up?”

He moved away from her, raising his finger.

“Lieutenant, it’s not what it looks like.”  
“Then why am I naked?”

He must have looked very miserable, because Abbie laughed and stroke his cheek. 

“I’m teasing you,” she said. “Thank you for bringing me back.”

Ichabod couldn’t stand it anymore. He lowered himself on the floor, occupied with a need to just breathe without anything else happening, please and thank you. Next to him, the Mills sisters were locked in a tight embrace.

“Never,” he heard himself say. “Do you hear me, Abbie? Never make me to go through this again.”  
“Deal,” came the answer. “Next time, you are the one to do all that sacrifice crap.”

Ichabod narrowed his eyes. Something in Abbie’s voice made his skin tingle. Something about her has changed, subtly. 

He turned to look at her. It was the same Abbie he knew, yet different. There was more peace about her, but also more fierceness. A new determination. She was ready to fight all the demons necessary. But she was no longer ready to sacrifice herself for somebody else’s good.

Frankly, he found it an improvement. 

Abbie smiled at him. Her next words echoed his thoughts. 

“I want to live,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very interested in your thoughts on this chapter. How did you like my way of bringing Abbie back?


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My crush on Sleepy Hollow subsided before I could turn this into a proper chapter. So, I’ll leave it here as an epilogue, outlining the future of the two Witnesses.

The crossbow fired. The bolt hit its target true. The apple fell on the ground, smashing into a frothy mess.

Ichabod reloaded his weapon. By now, he was proficient in doing this without having to get out of his hammock. 

His phone beeped. 

“A text from Jessica,” he announced. “She got accepted!”  
“Excellent,” came Abbie’s voice. 

The Lieutenant (the Major by now, actually) was sitting on the porch with her laptop, probably immersed into one FBI case or the other. Ichabod couldn’t help but marvel, as he always did, at how beautifully she aged. Her hair was completely white - a side-effect of their encounter with the Wisdom Viper - which made her face look young by the sheer contrast. Sometimes he wondered if she aged at all. Could the body that Pandora gave her have any special properties? He often asked himself that, but never asked the Lieutenant.

“Little Jessica, out in the college to become an archeologist!” Abbie sighed dreamily. “It’s hard to believe she has her own life now. I still remember times when she was a baby...”  
“Right.” Ichabod said. “I remember demons trying to steal her.”

Abbie shrugged.

“I don’t know what gave them the notion that threatening my daughter was a good idea.”  
“Our daughter.”  
“Messing with a daughter of two Witnesses makes even less sense.”  
“Demons are not known for their sense.”

She shrugged again, turning her attention back to the computer screen.

“I’m worried, Abbie.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Jessica is turning seventeen this year…” Ichabod started.  
“And she can take care of herself,” Abbie finished firmly. “We trained her well.”  
“Indeed,” Ichabod said.  
“Crane. Stop inventing non-existent dangers for our daughter. Tell me, what’s your problem?”

Ichabod got out of the hammock before the replied. 

“It’s too quiet!’ he exclaimed, brandishing his crossbow in the air. “It’s been almost ten years since we battled the last supernatural creature.”

Abbie gave him an eyebrow.

“Excuse me? And what was this thing we put down in Alaska last month, a polar poodle?”  
“That’s exactly the point. It was in Alaska! We have to travel around to exercise our purpose. I mean, it’s a pleasure to see the world, but it’s abnormally quiet _here_. In Sleepy Hollow.”  
“You know the answer to that,” she said. “You just find it too boring to believe. _We are simply too good at what we do._”  
“That’s one explanation, but…”  
“We survived seven tribulations,” Abbie continued, “and then kicked ass some more. Accept it, Ichabod. Demons are afraid of us.”  
“Apprehensive, I grant it.”  
“More like scared shitless. We are the two Witnesses who lived past their prime and are still around to tell the tale. Demon are not sticking their noses into this realm until we die!”

Crane’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

“What?” Abbie asked.  
“Lieutenant,” he said in silken tones. “How do you feel about arranging your own funeral?”


End file.
